Friday, December 16, 2011

Remembering Never Ends

Memories are triggered by almost anything, at any time, even when least expected, and they bring with them so much emotion. Not only the emotion of the time they happened, but all the emotions that are associated since that time, including happiness, love, wonder, nostalgia, longing, and grief.

For us, like so many others who have grieved for loved ones, especially those who have lost a child, the holidays will always hold those memories of the happy days gone by, all we shared, and bring to the fore all we will miss this holiday season. I am trying to keep focused on gratitude that we HAD those wonderful days, those years we enjoyed so much with our sons during the holidays.

Today I was doing some straightening up in my home office and came across something I don't remember even seeing or noticing at the time I received it. It's a pamphlet for parents about the death of a child called, "The Saddest Loss," written by Jane Woods Shoemaker. It was sent to us in a packet by USAA, the company that Leif dealt with for his car loan, vehicle insurance and a checking account, after I notified them of his death.

It's probably just as well that I didn't read it then. I don't know whether I would have been in any condition to really appreciate its message. It won't change anything, but reading it now is like an acknowledgement of all we have been through. I haven't read it fully, but these phrases stood out:

"The death of one's own child is so devastating you may not feel like reading this booklet right away."

"When a child dies, parents grieve harder and longer than with any other loss."

I can't know whether that is true, as I haven't experienced every other loss, but I do know it is the most devastating thing that has ever happened to us.

"The ties of love and hope that bind parent and child are the most powerful in human relationships."

I've written about the role of our hopes for our children, and the bond between me and Leif, and how I wonder if deep in us somewhere, even our DNA knows of the loss; certainly our bodies and brains respond to the loss in deep and profound ways.

"The suicide of a child leaves parents with so many unanswered questions. It is the most difficult loss to accept."

The questions will always haunt us, as long as we live and are capable of thinking.

The booklet deals forthrightly with the emotions surrounding what to do with your child's possessions, and how parents hold onto their child by keeping possessions. How well I know that feeling . . . and also the sadness that comes from disposing of them, which feels somehow disloyal.

"Memories are the worst and the best aspects of grief."

Yes, and that is the crux of it. We WANT to remember. We WANT to keep our child alive in our hearts and minds, but as the memories come, the grief comes along with the happiness, so many times.

There is a section on "Memorials," ways to memorialize one's child. Here, I have perhaps fallen victim to my own feelings of grief, for she writes, "A memorial should be a celebration of the child's life, not an expression of your grief."

She gives some examples, but my memorial for Leif is this blog, and it cannot be truthful without acknowledging grief. I found that out as I wrote it. If you have followed this blog these three-and-a-half years, you may remember that when I started it, the day we found him, I said I wanted it to be about the "remembering the good times." But it was and is not a biography that progressed in linear order through his life. It is not just a series of stories about him. It is a collection of thoughts, stories, emotions, which all intermingle, just as life does.

Here is a sentence from the last paragraph of the booklet, "Recovering from grief does not mean that you get over the death of your child."

Yes, every parent I've talked to who has suffered the death of their child says this. You never get over it, but you learn to cope. You learn to go on. You learn to handle the occasions the sadness and nostalgia return. You learn to be grateful for the years you had. You learn to treasure every memory and every photo. You learn to be thankful for them.

And you will never, never forget.

Leif will not be with us this holiday season, not in person, not on this earth, but he will be in our hearts.
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This photo was taken of Leif in Hawaii in July 1984. He was nine years old. He looks happy, confident, adventurous.

Leif's Short Obituary

How little an obituary really says, summing up a life of hope, dreams, sadness, accomplishments, disappointments, love, work, family, friends, creativeness, defeat, with a formula of birth, family, work, death. Some papers will allow longer, but still inadequate, obituaries, for a price. Here is Leif's "standard" obituary, but I hope this blog will fill out, even in small snippets, more of the child, man, son, brother, uncle, comrade-in-arms, and passionate believer in the Constitution of the United States that he was. - Jerri------------------------Leif A. Garretson, 33, died April 9, 2008 at his home in Tampa, Florida of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Leif, known to many as "Alex," was born at Fort Riley, Kansas on January 28, 1975 and lived in Manhattan until 1976, when his family moved to several places around the world due to his father's military service, returning to Manhattan in 1992. He was a 1993 graduate of Manhattan High School and a 2003 graduate of Kansas State University. He was an avid member of the Society for Creative Anachronism in Manhattan, where he could often be seen in medieval armor on Sundays in the City Park.

Leif was a Medicare Customer Service Agent for Humana and a retired, disabled military veteran who served his country as an army machine gunner and certified armorer from January 1998 to May 2001, with a tour of peacekeeping duty in Bosnia.

He retired with the rank of Specialist 4 and received the NATO Medal, the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal, the Army Service Ribbon, the Expert Marksmanship Qualification Badge with Machine Gun Bar, Sharpshooter Marksmanship Qualification Badge with Pistol Bar, Marksman Marksmanship Qualification Badge with Rifle Bar, Marksman Marksmanship Badge with Grenade bar, and several brigade and unit awards.

He is survived by his parents, Peter W. and Geraldine (Jerri) Garretson of Sun City Center Florida (formerly of Manhattan, Kansas); his brother and sister-in-law, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force, Peter A. Garretson and his wife, Darlene, of Washington, DC; his maternal grandmother, Marion S. Kundiger of Sun City Center, Florida (also formerly of Manhattan, Kansas), eight first cousins, two nieces and one nephew.

On April 29, 2008, Leif was inurned with full military honors at the Bay Pines National Cemetery in Bay Pines, Florida, and later that afternoon a memorial service was performed at the Unitarian Universalist Church of St. Petersburg, Florida, with Rev. Manish Mithra officiating. Leif's family members and friends spoke in his memory.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that any contributions in Leif's honor be made to organizations assisting disabled veterans and requests that you thank service members you see in uniform for their patriotism and service to our country.

A mother's quest for memory and understanding of his life and suicide.

This blog is dedicated to the memory of my son, Leif Ashley Garretson, and to my quest to understand his life and death.

The photos on this blog were taken mostly by me or by Leif's father, Peter W. Garretson, but others were taken by my mother and sisters. I thank them for allowing me to use them here.

Leif or Alex?

Leif's given name was Leif Ashley Garretson. He was named Leif after the Norwegian Viking Leif Ericson, and Ashley after the famed anthropologist Ashley Montague.

The pronunciation of Leif was an issue with Leif. In America, people are taught to pronounce it like "leaf," but he didn't like that. In Germany, where we lived for three years during his childhood, it is pronounced "life," which is how we pronounced it until he was grown. In Scandinavian, it is pronounced "layf," and that was how he wanted it to be pronounced.

One amusing incident took place when he was serving in Bosnia and they had an activity with some Norwegian NATO troops. He took out his ID card, held it up (in front of his American soldier buddies) and asked the Norwegians how to pronounce his name. He was gratified when they said "Layf"!

A lot of people knew Leif as "Alex," and some of his friends, and his dad, still call him that. That nickname came about because when he was about seven and annoyed with people calling him "leaf" or "life" he wanted a nickname. We were moving from Japan to Hawaii, so he and his brother, Peter Anthony, thought that would be a good time to make the change because no one would know him by his real name at the new place.

They chose "Alex" because they enjoyed the show, "Family Ties," and the star was "Alex." Leif used that name from then until about 1998.

There were short periods when he tried out other nicknames, like "Ash" (from his middle name, Ashley), and "Crispy," which I think (but am not sure) came from his love of Crispy Treats. When he was a senior in high school, he contemplated legally changing his name to "Lance Alexander," but he never did it.